


Who Do You Think You Are?

by gidge



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, F/F, Prom, Romance, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 05:55:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17380883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gidge/pseuds/gidge
Summary: I can't believe that she would show up in the rain. Of all the dramatics Rachel Berry could accomplish, that had to have been in the top 10.





	1. I Know

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to ff.net. Was actually meant to be a one-shot, but the masses demanded more. Probably a mistake to give in to such peer pressure, but I finished it. Eventually.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't shit re: Glee. This is just for fun. Angsty, super unnecessarily conflicted, fun. 
> 
> Lemme know what you think if you feel like it.

**I know I can't take one more step towards you**

_'cause all that's waiting is regret..._

I wait. It seems like I spend a lot of time waiting for that feeling to come back. Naturally, I had hoped it was a fluke and that it would never happen again. But then it did, when I saw her that next day in the hallway and I was lost for an explanation.

Rachel Berry. Really? No idea why I suddenly found myself with my lips on hers. Or why she'd even shown up at my house that night.

_You know why,_ I thought. _She found out you'd taken Finn back._

Ugh, and what a god awful decision that had been. It was necessary, though. I want the student body to fear me rather than pity me. Pity is weak. It is useless and has no right to be directed at me.

So I took him. As much as I never wanted to have to touch him ever again, I took him back. Out of Berry's grasp, and into my bed. Thankfully, he's easier to dissuade than Puck, who probably would have tried to get a lot more action out of the "making up" portion. Finn is too easily a pawn in the game of high school and I'm definitely someone who can play the game.

I can't believe that she would show up in the rain. Of all the dramatics Rachel Berry could accomplish, that had to have been in the top 10.

I opened the door to find what looked like a drowned rat in an overcoat.

"Berry," I said. "What are you doing here?"

She was shivering. I wanted to ask her in, but it seemed like an action that was a little too friendly for me.

"Quinn. Can I come in? If you haven't noticed, there is a bit of a downpour." Rachel looked at me like I was a godsend and Satan rolled into one.

"Yeah, I guess so."

I opened the door wider and let her in to stand on the rug in the front hall. Or drip, rather. Staring at her while she stood there, shivering, I was still wondering why she was here.

It's a good thing she lives close by, I thought as she steadily drip, drip, dripped on the carpet. It was only two blocks and still looked as though she'd been thrown into a lake fully clothed.

"Berry? Again. What are you doing here?" I ask. She seems kind of upset, although I have no idea why. Not that I know much about Rachel Berry...

Suddenly Rachel's head popped up and she looked me in the eyes. Her beautiful brown eyes burned into mine. Wait, beautiful? What?

"Are you back together with Finn?" Her question snapped me out of my momentary confusion and back to focus on her.

"Oh god, really Berry? Is this why you showed up here at 11 on a school night? To ask me about something you could have seen on Facebook?" I made for the door, causing a larger amount of distance between us, to open it and force her to leave. This was a ridiculous waste of my time.

I didn't need to answer to her. She should just leave me alone. For years, I had to deal with trying to understand why I was strangely drawn to her and chalked it up to hatred that never really had a reason.

It's probably because of her incessant need to be right. Constant, unwavering. Now she was opening up another issue. It's not like I care whether Finn Hudson rockets off of a cliff to a fiery death or lives to be 90. I need him to win that stupid crown, so I can be the stupid prom queen and make everyone stay afraid. I need some semblance of normalcy.

Rachel Berry standing in my house was not normal.

Marching in her diva stance to join me, I found her tanned legs particularly alluring in that skirt. This actually happened often. Every time I caught myself staring, I would just remember that it was comparison; all girls judged themselves by the looks of others, whether or not that particular other was Rachel Berry. Even though I never really looked at Santana or Brittany in quite the same way...

"Quinn. I want an answer. I have the right to know. Finn was in a relationship with me and you're somewhat of a friend and I think I deserve to know if you two are suddenly secretly dating." She huffed, crossing her arms against her chest and positioned one foot slightly ahead of the other in her stance.

I looked at her, tilting my neck slightly to make up for the few inches of height difference. I felt a sudden anger that I had never experienced before.

"I know that you think everything has to do with you, but believe me, Manhands, the world doesn't revolve around Ms. Rachel Berry."

"I have every right-"

"You have no right! When are you going to understand, Rachel? You're not the one who gets the guy and has the white picket fence in Ohio? That's not you and you need to accept it!"

Why do I have tears in my eyes? I thought, suddenly. You know why, Fabray.

Rachel stepped back slightly, a look in her eyes I couldn't quite place. Could she see that scenario was my future and that I hated the thought of it? If Berry's pitying me now, I swear to God...

"Don't look at me like that! Why are you constantly in my way? Just leave me in peace!"

I felt my face flushing in anger and hot tears threatening to spill down my face. Where is all of this emotion coming from? I thought quickly before focusing my attention back to the girl in front of me. She backed up a little more and I saw her hit the countertop.

I could make her fear me again. I could revel in it.

So I moved closer, looming over Rachel Berry. Something took hold of me and I no longer had control over my actions. So much that I had repressed in the past year was bubbling up to the surface. This only seemed to happen around Rachel, but usually I was under control. Now it was making itself known. I moved upon her so that there was no space left between the two of us and she brought her hands up to push at my shoulders.

Surprisingly strong, I though, quirking my eyebrow at her, impressed. She looked breathless, shocked, but only a little bit afraid. I grabbed her to make her stop pushing at me and before I had realized what I was doing I felt her plush lips against mine. Soft, pillowy goodness that I was ravaging. I didn't have control for this and felt a moan emerge from my throat that somewhat resembled a growl.

Rachel's lips suddenly moved in response to mine and I felt hands move from my shoulders to my back, pulling me closer. I grabbed the back of her neck with one hand, feeling strands of wet hair in my grasp, and the side of her jaw in the other, pressing myself even closer to her. I heard a whimper and ran my tongue along her bottom lip, instantly receiving the reaction I craved.

Plunging into her mouth, I smoothly combined our tongues for a deep, sensual kiss. I was ravenous, taking dominance in this kiss. Listening to Rachel's whimpering moans only fueled my desire. I felt the grip on my back strengthen and two hands pulling my sides to force my body impossibly closer to hers.

I pushed her harder against the counter, feeling the need for air as I did so, and let go, still pressing our foreheads together while gasping for more oxygen. I swiftly moved my mouth down to her jaw and lower still, to her neck, nipping at the skin there. I heard a loud moan as I adjusted my thigh to place between her legs.

Suddenly, I snapped out of it.

Pushing myself away, I was in horror of what I had just done. Rachel was still pressed against the counter, her hair disheveled and her gorgeous lips with a slight swell to them. Eyes half-open she appraised my appearance as well, with a dark, sensual look still directed toward me.

What the hell?

"Leave," I said, noting the huskiness still evident in my voice.

She seemed to come to her senses with that one word.

"What?"

"Leave. I don't need to repeat myself."

There was a beat. She didn't move and neither did I. We stood, encased in time.

"No," she said. I loved the way her voice sounded right now.

"What?"

"No," she repeated. "I refuse to leave. Particularly at this very moment."

"Get out!" I yelled halfheartedly.

Thank God my parents aren't home, I thought.

She started moving toward me. I backed up, feeling the door hit in me in the back.

Nowhere to run now.

"Quinn...don't you think we should..."

"No! No, I don't think we should do anything. I think you should leave."

I put my arm up in some type of defense to Rachel, who was getting closer to me. She put her hand on my arm and looked at me with an expression that was completely vulnerable.

I think that was the moment I truly fell in love with Rachel Berry.

"Fine, Quinn. But we should talk about this. I'm coming over tomorrow evening. It's a Friday, you can tell your parents that you're having a sleepover or something."

She looked at me expectantly. I wanted to tell her that I'd rather die than have to talk to her more than necessary, but I just nodded instead.

"No need. My parents won't be home, but you can still come over. I doubt I could stop you anyway," I said, trying to regain my normal speaking voice.

This huskiness was doing nothing for my libido and I was still kind of turned on. I wanted to be harsh toward her. It was too weird to be nice after what had just happened. Rachel's voice was, of course, still in that lower octave and driving me nuts.

I ran my hands down the front of my jeans to get rid of the nerves and found them damp because of Rachel's stupid coat. Stupid, stupid coat. I looked back at her. She looked like she was waiting for something. Finally, she looked down.

"Okay, well...I'll see you tomorrow then. I'll be over around...six?" She looked back up nervously, her facial expression hesitant and I felt a familiar zing shooting around in my stomach as her eyes locked with mine.

I nodded.

"Fine."

She squishily walked the short distance to the doorway and pushed the outward door open. Taking one look back at me, she disappeared into the dark, damp night.

And now I'm here. It's five thirty, and I'm waiting for none other than Rachel Berry. I so do not look forward to this conversation.


	2. I Learned

**I learned to live half alive**   
_and now you want me one more time…_

5:55

The big red numbers mock me from their position on the alarm clock currently resting on my side table. Lying on my bed, waiting for Rachel Berry. What a great use of my time.

I still can't believe I kissed her. What was I thinking?

Raising my hand to my lips, I let my fingers linger there, recalling yesterday's moment of temporary insanity. I'll just explain that to her. That it'll never happen again and she can just leave me alone for the rest of high school.

The doorbell shakes me out of my reverie.

5:56

And she's even early. What a shock. Slowly, I roll myself out of bed and make my way to the door. I was beginning to get nervous at the thought of facing her. What if I lose control again and just attack? It was reasonable that it wouldn't happen again, though. I mean, this was Rachel Berry. Not exactly a goddess of seduction. I should be fine. Right?

This is not a good idea, this is not a good idea. The sentencethoroughly chants in my head.

I open the door.

Yeah, definitely not a good idea.

Somehow, Berry has turned into a normal girl. Rachel, wearing jeans and slim fit rocker tee, smiling shyly with her bangs in her eyes, was standing on my doorstep.

What the hell?

My mind was racing. Rachel Berry…looking hot? I think my brain just broke.

She cleared her throat and my attention was brought back to the present.

"H-hi, Rachel. Come in," I said, holding the door open wider and gesturing for her to enter.

She smiled at me again and timidly, but purposefully, made her way into the house.

"Thank you, Quinn. I'm glad you actually answered it. I must admit I wasn't entirely sure you were going to uphold your promise for today."

I hesitated, sticking my hands in my pockets. How had she known? I had thought about just not answering, but it turns out I did have a conscience. That, and I knew she would never let it go until she got her chance to ramble on about it.

"Not that I'm not glad you did!" She moved quickly, thinking she'd offended me, reaching out to grip my arm. I step back, moving away from her slightly.

"Why don't we go up to my room?" I ask, trying to get over the awkwardness I was feeling. Even more, though, I was hoping to keep her out of the way in case my parents were to come home unexpectedly. They weren't exactly "jew-friendly".

"We can talk up there." I tried a small smile to help make the process go easier.

"Yeah, sure. Lead the way," she motions, signaling for me to head upstairs.

"Okay. Want anything to drink before we head up?" I swallow, thinking of reasons to stall. Why am I so nervous?

My mind moves quickly and in a million directions. For some reason, I feel anxiety about having Rachel Berry alone in my room.

Well, this is certainly awkward.

"No, thank you, Quinn." She offers that shy smile yet again, finding the floor very interesting after a moment. "I'm fine, but it was nice of you to offer."

"No problem," I answer with a smirk and quickly lead the way to my bedroom.

Climbing the stairs, I try to calm myself down. My nerves were making me feel like I was about to jump out of my skin any minute.

I stop outside of my door and wave my arm in a grand gesture. She walks forward and takes in the style.

Nodding approvingly, she steps further into the room and makes herself comfortable.

On my bed.

My heart sort of skips a beat and I wonder what the hell is wrong with me.

Get a grip, I think. It's just Rachel Berry.

I walk in and close the door behind me, silently sending up a prayer before turning around. I make my way toward my bed and sit down close to the headboard and simultaneously further away from Rachel.

"So…" She looks at me as though expecting me to initiate the conversation.

Don't look at me, I didn't even wanna do this.

"Okay, I'll start." She sits up, crossing one leg in front of her and focuses all her attention toward me.

"Quinn, yesterday when I came over here and certain things…happened, I feel like those things warrant a conversation, don't you?" Rachel looked at me expectantly.

"Honestly? No. The only reason you're here right now is because I figured you'd never let it rest until you'd talked about it. A lot."

I couldn't help the comment, but it was true—mostly. She was the only reason we were here right now. There's no way in hell I would have asked for this.

"Well," she said, looking down at her shoes, but quickly facing me again. "Nevertheless, we should talk about it." Her voice became soft and I felt goosebumps snake along my forearms.

Seriously, what the fuck..?

"Alright, Berry. What exactly would you like to talk about?"

"Oh come on, Quinn. You kissed me. I feel like that deserves some type of ana-"

"Who says I kissed you?" I didn't like being accused of things, certainly not beginning a make-out session with, or taking advantage of, Rachel Berry.

"Because you did." She looked at me, completely nonchalant and honest, as if daring me to say differently.

"I didn't notice any protesting from your side!" I folded my arms across my chest and looked down at the bedspread.

Had I been too forceful? Maybe she was just being nice…Oh, god, now I'm going to feel awful if I had a freak attack on someone who didn't even want it, but didn't want to say no. I would never wanna be someone like Puck was to me all of that time ago. Maybe she was afraid..?

I couldn't finish the thought.

My heart dropped into my stomach with a large clunk. I got up and started to move around, trying to get myself in check. Game face, Fabray.

I was angry. I didn't know why, but I was angry. I begin pacing the room; if for no other reason than I was completely confused and angry, but annoyed because I wasn't sure why I was feeling all of these things and reacting this way to what Rachel was saying.

"Quinn, I didn't say that," she said as she watched me pace in front of her, arms folded.

"I don't even know why you want to talk about this! It's not like it meant anything! Like I'd ever be attracted to someone like you, Manhands!"

I whipped my head around, hoping to yell at her enough to get her out of my house, but making eye contact, I could see tiny remnants of tears threatening to build up and I couldn't bring myself to speak any more.

"Please, sit back down."

I stopped dead in my tracks, looking down at her.

Oh, what the hell? What happened to the Quinn that would crush Rachel Berry?

I sighed, flopping back down into the place I was before and waited.

"Quinn, I really just wanted to know one thing. Why?"

"Why…?"

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Again, why is it that I—"

"Fine!" She looked frustrated, but didn't break eye contact. "Why did we kiss?"

Looking at her, trying to think of some reason to get her the hell out of my house without talking about all of my feelings, I begin to notice that all the air in the room draining.

Oh no…

I start to breathe heavier, feeling the oxygen leaving my body, but my slightly gasping breaths not gathering enough air to replace it. Rachel, seeing something wrong, places her hand on my knee.

That doesn't help at all.

"Quinn. Quinn, are you okay?"

I start freaking out more, trying to draw in air, but getting nowhere. She places her hand on my cheek, trying to understand what's going on. Looking me in the eyes, Rachel starts talking about the photo hanging on my wall.

"See the house there in that frame behind me?"

I nod, still trying to gather air, but noting the building.

"See how it's green, but the composition makes it look darker to match the forlorn tone of the picture?"

Wow, I'd never realized that before. I nod, studying it more closely.

"I especially like the daytime overcast to help spotlight that man, don't you?"

Yeah, I'd always loved the tone of that photo…

Wait, did she seriously just do that?

She smiles, noting that my panic attack is subsiding. I look back at her and can't help but smile a little myself.

"Thank you."

"No problem." She backs away a bit, but still looks at me, biting her lower lip. "So…I suppose this means you're not comfortable with talking about what was behind your actions yesterday?"

I stare blankly, not responding to the question. I honestly don't know how to answer it.

"Okay. Well, I'm sorry that I caused that to happen Quinn, but I was just trying to understand what was going on. It's my mistake for making assumptions…" Rachel trailed off then, not really finishing her thought.

I never thought I would see the day when Rachel Berry couldn't finish a statement unless forced.

Rachel got up as if to move and I suddenly panic, thinking she's headed to leave. Grabbing her arm, I make her stop. She looks at me with a look of uncertainty, mirroring all of my feelings in her facial expression.

I start to pull her back toward me and as she places a knee on my bed, I move forward and gently capture her lips with mine. Slowly, I kiss her, moving my hand to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to me.

I sit back down, maneuvering so Rachel can kneel in front of me and kiss her with more fervor. She responds, whimpering lightly as I glide my tongue over her lower lip. I pull her downward onto me, forcing her to straddle my lap and she moans, allowing my tongue entry.

The kissing becomes even more sensual and I feel heat flow through my body. My hands grip Rachel's hips and she grinds slightly against me. I growl lightly in response. Her hands are at the back of my neck, pulling me impossibly closer.

Feeling the need to breathe, I pull back, gasping. Rachel's eyes look into mine as if trying to catch a glimpse of my soul, questioning my motives with the sexiest look I've ever seen.

I pull her back into me, lying us down to get lost in one another.

Talking could wait.


	3. Remember

**Remember how to put the light back in my eyes**   
_I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed…_

I never thought I would reach a point in my life where I'd want someone lying over me, kissing me senseless. Every boy I'd been with before always sort of annoyed me.

Finn was sloppy and he seemed to think he was accomplished with his mouth, when he really wasn't any good. There was no way to teach him, either. I'd tried.

Puck, in the brief time I had spent with him, had been rough, clashing his lips against mine and grabbing my body too hard. I didn't resent him for that night, but I sure couldn't look back on it fondly or anything.

Sam was probably the best one. He had such an easy way about him. And his lips…his lips were soft, plush—there was a reason Santana had sung "Trouty Mouth" to him, after all. But he was still just a boy, and a boring boy at that, who was too ill-equipped to entertain me enough to ever pass 1st base.

This, on the other hand, was…There were really no words. The soft lips possessively kissing mine. Soft hands running along the length of my jaw, following the shape of my torso, just constantly taking me in, and it was turning me on. Berry was turning me on.

Rachel's body draped over mine felt amazing. I had one hand firmly on the back of her neck, keeping her as close to me as possible, and the other was roaming, exploring her body. I pushed on her lower back, trying to get her hips impossibly closer to mine. I was smoothly running my hand along her t-shirt, caressing the side of her stomach.

I was reveling in the feeling.

I could stay like this forever.

Rachel moaned into my mouth, lifting her lips to place quick kisses before moving further down to first nip at the line of my jaw, then slowly moving to my neck, sucking on a sensitive spot. I groaned, pulling her into me more, wanting those lips on me constantly.

Slipping my hand up under her shirt, I feel Rachel's skin. I hear her moan as my nails slide gently along her bare stomach.

"Wait, wait…wait," she says, removing her mouth from my neck.

I groan loudly at the interruption, not wanting to stop. It felt too amazing to stop.

Looking up, I see her big brown eyes looking down at me. Her expression shows blatant confusion, but she still looks so hot.

Yes, I've admitted that I think Berry's hot. It's not like that was big news considering what just happened. What I want to continue…

"Wait for what, baby?" Hoping the term of endearment would get her to let me pull her back to me, I grip the back of her neck again to pull her down to my lips.

God, I needed those lips on mine.

It seemed to work. She moved her hips down onto me slightly and was starting to give in when she heard my voice, moving with my hand to capture my lips. I moan, slipping my tongue into her mouth yet again.

"No, no, no, no…stop, Quinn." She was pulling away again, and I could tell by her tone of voice that she wasn't going to give in this time.

Sighing, I look up into her face above me.

God you're amazing, I think.

I see her blush and smile slightly.

Oh god, I didn't just say that out loud…

"Thank you, Quinn. We need to stop though," she says, rolling herself over and off of me to lie next to me on my bed.

Seriously? Why did I just say that out loud? I can't think Berry's amazing, I'm dating Finn. I have to date Finn. Mediocre, somewhat clueless, bumbling Finn.

"Quinn?" Her head moved to look at mine, my eyes staring silently up at the ceiling. I didn't answer.

"Quinn? Please say something," she asks, almost begging me to speak.

This was such a bad idea. She's going to want confessions of love and happiness and double rainbows and…and I can't do that.

"What would like me to say?" Quinn Fabray, the ever cold-hearted bitch was speaking.

I had to get Berry to leave somehow; might as well be mean to her sooner rather than have it get messy.

Can't believe I did this again! But man…that was just…No! No, it wasn't anything.

"Well, it would be nice to understand why we just ended up…making out…again. It doesn't seem to make much sense. I thought you hated me and…"

"Who says I don't, hobbit?" I feel tears trying to make their way to my eyes, but I hold them back.

She props herself up on her elbow, looking at me directly.

"Quinn, I need answers. I ca-can't do whatever this is…I don't think I could handle it."

I turn my head to look into her eyes and instantly regret it. The tears I had been holding back spring forward and I sit up quickly, trying to get away from her as fast as possible.

She probably still saw them, though.

"Quinn," she says my name and I know she saw me break. Her voice tells me everything. Placing her hand on my shoulder, she stands waiting for me to do or say anything.

It's the longest silence of my life.


	4. Don't

**Don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore?**   
_You lost the love I loved the most..._

My breathing has stopped, I think, as I watch the love of my life, Quinn Fabray, as still as possible in front of me. She's standing with her back to me, but I know if I were to look into her eyes right now, those gorgeous bits of hazel would be near to overflowing with tears.

I can't believe she's going to pretend like nothing's going on. Maybe that's really how she feels…

"Quinn," I repeat myself, thinking it will make her snap out of whatever trance she is in. "You need to talk to me. I need to talk to you. This has to be sorted out or I'll go crazy."

She still doesn't move. I feel her shoulder shake slightly and I grab her to turn her body to face me.

Screw this avoidance crap.

I see her beautiful face stained with tears, the sadness evident in her features, but the hard look that I've seen for years in the hallways of McKinley High is still there, unwavering.

It was at that moment that I knew Quinn Fabray was going to break my heart.

"Quinn…" And then I stutter, tripping over my own words. "P-please don't cry…"

"Berry. You need to leave. Right. Now." The tone of her voice is like ice in my veins.

"No. Quinn, we need to talk about this…I need to talk about this! What were you doing? What are you thinking? Why is this—"

"I'm thinking that if you don't leave this house immediately I'll have to call the pound to have you taken away!"

That harsh voice cuts into me, maiming my soul. I refuse to let go of this.

"Screw that!" I shout at her, throwing her off balance in just a moment, allowing me to be aggressive.

"You care! You care and that's why you're freaking out!" I breathe out, watching her face twist in contortion, melding itself into something unrecognizable. I can only imagine it's the perfect equilibrium of anger and anguish; all on those beautiful features.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she says, voice as cold as ice.

I definitely pushed a button.

I smirk to myself, looking at her clench her fists and set on the borderline of breathing fire, all perfectly kept under the façade of a cool exterior.

"You want to do those, those th-things with me because," I look down, hesitating to form the right words, and move my eyes back up to look into hers. "Because you like doing them! And you like me! I can feel it every time you touch me…"

I reach out my hand to grasp her arm and lightly touch forearm, trying to pull her closer.

Wrenching her arm free, she wipes off some of the remaining tears and looks me dead in the eyes.

"That's disgusting. It's immoral and I'll have no part of what you and your family bring into this town."

Standing there, breathing heavy and tear-stained face, I suddenly have no doubt in my mind that I'm right. And that even if Quinn wants to act on her feelings, her family-life has affected how she sees the world…and herself. Oh, the amount of convincing it'll take to fix that!

I lunge at her, grabbing her face in my hands and pulling her close. Her lips are like heaven and I never want to stop kissing her, but it ends all too soon when she pulls away, but she stays close.

"And I care about you, Quinn. I like doing those things with you, too," I say, my voice almost a whisper. I hesitate, taking a deep breath and looking at her still cold expression with its lingering look of curiosity.

"I've kind of loved you since eighth grade…" I look at her hesitantly, hoping for this to be some shocking moment where we both confess our undying love and ride off into the sunset with horses. Or at least get to make out on her bed some more.

But this is Lima, Ohio. And the blonde in question; none other than Quinn Fabray.

She pulls back faster than a jolt of lightning and runs into her bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

"LEAVE MY HOUSE MANHANDS, AND NEVER COME BACK!"

Jostled, feeling more stoic than I have in my entire life, I turn toward the door and leave, closing it behind me. Walking down the stairs and out of the house, my vision starts to blur. I reach my hand up to my eyes and realize my face is damp. I'm crying. The tears won't stop as I make my way home, my head hung down, and I wonder just exactly how much damage I've done.


	5. You

**_You don't get to get me back…_ **

Walking into school the next day, head held high but wary of slushees and rousing chants of "lesbian! lesbian!", I find it surprisingly quiet. Everyone is keeping to their own lockers as I make my way to mine.

Sorting through books, I find the ones I need. Maybe I should go to the glee room, try to practice some things before homeroom.

I decide this is the best course of action and head there, minding the people in the hallways and especially looking out for the Neanderthal David Karofsky.

Getting closer, I hear music coming from the room. Wondering who would possibly be in there this early—it's probably Mr. Schue trying to rap again—I instantly cringe and turn the corner. It's not my glee coach at all, but Santana, singing Fleetwood Mac's Songbird to…to Brittany.

Wow. That's one of the most heartfelt things I've ever seen.

"And the songbirds  
keep singing,  
like they know the score…  
And I love you, I love you, I love you,  
like never before…"

Seeing it's a private moment, I back up out of the doorway. Heading instead toward the auditorium, I decide I could get some reading done. There was still ten minutes left before the beginning of classes and I do not feel like spending time within anyone in this school, anyway.

Well, that's not true either. I can think of one person I definitely want to spend more time with…No! No more pining for a lost cause.

Berating myself and wiping the tears out of my eyes, I make my way through the halls. Turning the corner, someone runs into me and knocks my book everywhere.

The jock barely glances back. Seeing it's me, a look of disdain crosses his face. "Dyke," he says, spitting at me as I lean down to pick up my things.

Instantly, tears threaten to spill yet again. Not because of the abuse. That I'm used to, it's more the word used.

Great. I hope he thought of that all by himself and it wasn't orchestrated by a certain blonde bitch cheerleader…

Feeling anger build up toward Quinn for what seems like the millionth time today, I slam my books together and pick them up, walking back the way I came. Looking up, I see exactly the person I want to avoid leaning dangerously close to Finn Hudson at his locker. Quinn was running her index finger along the length of his chest, batting those perfect—stupid—eyelashes to coax out a reaction from Finn.

Poor, easy, gullible Finn. Ugh, who cares? His brain capacity is the size of a pea, anyway.

Whoa. Where did that come from?

Thinking, I took a moment to make a list of attributes I dislike about Finn Hudson.

He never seems to want me—or anyone, really—unless someone else does…his thoughts are always about video games or food…his taste in music is atrocious…he forgot my birthday…he never seems to listen when I talk, never…Whenever I have an idea, he only likes it if everyone else does first…he's really only nice when he wants something…

What a dick.

Admitting that Finn was rather dim-witted shook me from my stand still in the middle of the—why is there no one here?—hallway, and began my trek to the auditorium once more.

Glancing at them as I pass by, I see Finn lean down and kiss Quinn. She returns the embrace as I turn away as fast as possible, speeding up to almost running before launching myself into the bathroom on the corner. It was always deserted. I would go there every day to change out of my slushee-ridden clothes and clean myself up.

Now it is my sanctuary again as I feel the tears falling and my back slide down the length of the wall next to the door.

I know I shouldn't get this upset, but given the amount of emotions I've had to experience the past few days, I feel validated in my pathetic sobbing body nearly lying on the floor of the far side girls bathroom ten minutes before homeroom.

Hearing footsteps approach, I panic, running into a stall and slam the door behind me as I hear the main door being opened.

"Rachel?"

My heart leaps to my throat. What is sh-?

"Rachel, are you in here?"

I see Quinn's feet make their way further into the room and stop right in front of the stall I'm currently hiding in.

"Open the door, Berry. I know you're in there."

Sitting on the tank of the toilet, I rest my feet on the edges of the seat and vow never to open that stall door until she is long gone.

"Go away, Quinn." I can hear the sternness coming through in my tone even though my voice is coated with the after effects of crying. Wiping my face, I stare determinedly at the door as though she can see through it.

In an even, unemotional voice, Quinn commands for the door to be opened once more. It sounds like her icy bitch tone is gone, though. Weird.

"No, Quinn. Go away." I hug myself tightly and sit, feeling like the lamest person in exisistence at the moment.

Five minutes of this and she'll get bored. Don't understand why she's in here in the first place…It's not like anyone would believe me if I told them we made out. Yeah, right. They'd see me as more of a freak.

"You don't have to worry about me outing you, Quinn." I say, listening for changes in her footsteps to indicate that she's moving to leave. "I wouldn't do that to someone. Not even you," I add the last part, just to let off some anger toward her for what she's put me through the last week.

Suddenly, I see both of her feet disappear and instead, hands and knees are touching the tile.

"I hope you're decent in there," she says, her voice muffled through the door. I see a blonde headed ponytail dance into view.

Apparently she's not above crawling underneath the stall to torture me. Lovely.


	6. Don't Come Back for Me

**“Don't come back for me,**

_who do you think you are…"_

As Finn leans down to place his clammy lips (how are lips clammy, anyway?) on my own, I see a streak of brown hair fly quickly past me, walking at incredible speed. I take in the argyle socks, and without thinking I turn my head to the right, kissing Finn lightly on the neck.

"Why don't you go on to homeroom? I need to go take care of something," I say, silently pleading for him to leave quickly. I know he'll listen to me, it's just too easy.

With a dazed expression on his face, he looks down at me with a smirk and nods, walking away slowly with some weird swagger going on. The sight of it is unsettling.

Watching him turn the corner, I spring toward the far end bathroom. Knowing Rachel, which I kinda do, she would go there to get away.

I hope I'm wrong, I hope she's not upset. I really didn't want to hurt her again. Stupid Finn and his PDA…gross.

Well, I thought, you can't really tell her it wasn't your idea now, can you? Ugh.

Jogging slightly, I make my way to the bathroom door, trying to listen for any sounds. I think I hear crying, but I'm not sure. Pushing open the door, I hear a stall slam shut and instantly I know that Rachel's in there.

I decide to play it off as though I had just walked in to use the bathroom, though. I don't want her to think that I came in here just to see if she was okay. That wouldn't work. I can't be showing any more weakness after the past few days. I just can't.

Walking in, I step toward the sinks, making noise before I stop and hesitantly ask her to show herself.

"Rachel?"

No answer.

Dammit, I know she's in here.

"Rachel, are you in here?"

Sounding sort of bored and hoping the worry wasn't making itself known in the tone of my voice, I ask again.

No answer.

This is ridiculous.

Dropping the nonchalance, I make my way over to the stall door and address her directly.

"Open the door, Berry. I know you're in there."

I put on the mask of head cheerleader by speaking with my bitch voice, but I'm desperately hoping that she's alright.

I wish I could talk to her. I wish I could tell her how much…

Shaking my head, I stand resolute, waiting for her answer. I hear the toilet tank shift and realize she must be sitting on the uppermost part, hiding even her feet from my view.

"Go away, Quinn," she says, and I instantly feel the blood in my veins freeze and boil at the same time. Just from her voice I can tell she's been doing quite a bit of crying in the past few minutes. What's worse is the harshness of her tone and the words that bite as she speaks to me.

Feeling tears in my eyes, I refuse to let them fall and try one more time to get her to open the stall door. My voice has lost all of its edge, I can tell, but I hold my ground. I refuse to let her see me broken again.

"No, Quinn. Go away."

Keep it together, Fabray. Calm down.

"You don't have to worry about me outing you, Quinn." I suck in a quick breath at this, momentarily freaking at the words "outing you".

"I wouldn't do that to someone. Not even you," she says, and instantly I know I deserve that.

Oh lord…the tone of her voice just breaks me.

I stand there for a moment, staring at the metal cubicle, feeling a million different emotions flooding through me. Frustration being the foremost, because at that moment all I want to do is kick at the door, yelling and screaming, but at the same time I feel like grabbing Rachel and never letting her go. It's the worst culmination of simultaneous feelings I've ever experienced and I don't like it.

_Just screw this bullshit._

"I hope you're decent in there," I say, getting down and crawling underneath the stall.

Trying not to think of how dirty the floor could possibly be, I wriggle low on my elbows and knees, making my way into the stall.

"Quinn!" I hear a screech and see a flash of lace underneath a plaid skirt before Rachel's standing in the corner of the stall, as far away from me as possible.

Getting up, I wipe off my uniform, hoping there's nothing too disgusting attached to it.

Looking back up at Rachel, I get lost for a moment because she looks me right in the eyes, confused, but definitely emotional. I can see she has been crying and I feel badly instantly because I know it's my fault.

Not wanting to slip into sympathy, though, I place a hand on my hip and glare at her.

"Berry."

"What do you want, Quinn?"

"Why would I want anything from you, Treasure Trail?" I feel a wince forming on my face at using the familiar name and quickly twist it into an evil smirk.

Trying to back up impossibly further, I see Rachel squeezing herself into the corner, but standing her ground.

"Quinn. You're the one who crawled underneath my stall," she says.

Damn. I need to think through the things I say more often. She's got me all flustered with the crying…

"Alright, fine Berry. You caught me. I was trying to make sure you weren't in here bawling your eyes out."

I see her eyes get wide and she steps toward hesitantly with her arms outstretched slightly. I flinch, stepping back a half step and continue glaring at her, crossing my arms to add effect.

"I came to make sure that you weren't playing the pity party to get Finn to pay attention to you."

Rachel doesn't move away from me, if anything she steps closer after hearing this remark. Her eyes are glazed over and I'm not sure she's even listening to me.

"Did you hear what I said, Berry?"

Retreating a bit further, I feel my back hit the wall and I reposition myself so that my shoulder blades are touching the stall door.

Just in case I need a quick exit, I know I can get to it.

Rachel nods, stepping impossibly closer to me. I don't understand what's going on, but if she keeps looking at me like that…

"You should know that Finn is mine and that we're dating. I want you to stay away from him. The last thing his simple little mind needs is more distractions…What are you doing?"

Rachel had managed to place her entire body against the length of mine in the time that I was caught up in delivering my diatribe to her. It felt so good.

"Get off of me!" I yell and shove her away seeing her stumble slightly, but just enough to shake her out of whatever state she had been a few minutes ago.

"Quinn! I've had enough! You should fully know that I have no intentions toward chasing down that Neanderthal ever again! If that's what you were worried about, you could have saved yourself a trip in here because you know damn well that he's not the reason I'm in here crying like a pathetic child."

I gape, realizing what Rachel has just called Finn; what she's just said. My heart feels like it's about to burst just knowing that she truly doesn't want him anymore. If I had actually thought about it, Rachel having feelings for Finn was a larger reason for me rejecting Berry than the problems I've had with accepting myself or wanting to stay popular, though those were important too.

Instantly I'm moving forward, pulling Rachel toward me, guiding those gorgeous, perfect lips to my own.

Feeling the contact, I revel again in the softness of Rachel's lips and when she moans, I plunge my tongue into her mouth, amazed by how good it feels to be kissing her. Pulling away slightly, she kisses me, sucking on my lower lip and placing her hands on my lower sides, making circle patterns with her thumbs.

Having already placed my hands on her waist to pull her closer, I move them even lower, feeling her firm ass, squeezing it slightly. The moaning coming from Rachel fuels me, beginning a battle for dominance once again with my tongue. Gasping, I pull away, still cupping her butt in my hands, pressing my forehead against hers.

g

I can feel her hot breath ghosting over my lips and I don't ever want this to stop. Pulling her back in, I lose myself in sucking on her lower lip, running my tongue along the length of it. I feel her hands move upward, tracing my shoulders and finally entwining themselves in my hair, gripping tightly and pulling my mouth impossibly closer to hers. Feeling a deep tremor within me, I let out a low moan almost resembling a growl and grip Rachel as closely to me as possible.

Slowly, I feel her retreat from me. Disentangling her hands, she steps back bit by bit and pulls our lips apart, inch by inch. Finally, we're both standing there, quietly gasping for air. Rachel's eyes are closed and her hands are placed just above my breasts, pressing gently against the area below my shoulders. I smile at her slightly, feeling elated at what we had just done.

_Oh god, I want to do that again._

_"Quinn…"_ I hear her voice and my heart shatters, because it sounds like hers already has.

"I can't do this, Quinn. Stop following me, stop cornering me. I can't take the heartbreak that will happen if we keep doing this."

I look into her eyes as they slide back open, admonishing myself for being the cause of the tears currently residing there.

I can't speak. I try, moving my mouth and spluttering, but no sound comes out. She looks at me and moves past, opening the door and making her way out. I grab her wrist quickly before she's completely out of my reach and look at her, still trying to summon up the words—any words—that will make everything okay.

Feeling tears filling my eyes as well, I know there are none. And as I let my hand glide down hers, I feel them fall.

Hearing the heavy bathroom door slam closed, I slide down to the floor, crying my eyes out and wondering why it feels like my soul is being ripped out of my chest.


	7. Ice Inside Your Soul

**You're gonna catch a cold,**

_from the ice inside your soul…_

The rest of the day I walk around like a zombie. Seeing Rachel in our fourth period class makes me feel like I ate the burrito surprise during lunch. There's no escaping this feeling and I'm close to being as melodramatic as possible in thinking that death is definitely a viable option in comparison.

The hallways are clear, at the very least, as I leave math—and Rachel—using the need to see the school nurse as an excuse. I do feel sick, just not of the virus-like variety.

I want to go home. I don't want to have to go to Glee practice, or jump around with the Cheerios. I just want to drive to my house, put on some comfortable sweats, and pass out listening to Adele. No more Rachel, no more school, no more outside world. There's too much pressure and too many emotions that are getting to me right now.

Replaying what happened early as I reach the bathroom door, I feel the bile rising up in my throat and grab the garbage, wrenching up all of Sylvester's "health shake" that I had for lunch. Not a pretty sight. I wipe my mouth off with the back of my hand and go to the sink to gargle some water.

All I can hear is her voice, strangled, yet saying my name. Begging me to stop hurting her. That voice is so powerful, and I can stop hurting her, even if it means it'll hurt me more.

And it's for the best she's rejected me. Really, it is.

I cannot go back to high school exile. Even though this feeling definitely makes being banished from popularity seem like a small needle prick, I can't do it. It took too long to achieve my status again, and even love won't make me give that up.

Wait—love?

 _Seriously, Fabray? You love Rachel Berry?_ I laugh at the thought, though it comes out a bit high-pitched and panicked sounding.

The silence of the empty restroom envelopes me, driving me crazy yet comforting me simultaneously, and the uneasiness of that word makes everything I'm feeling 10 times worse.

 _You…you can't be in_ love _—_

"No."

Standing like a statue in the middle of the tile, I try to defy my thoughts.

"No, no, no. You're not in _love_ with Rachel Berry." My voice echoes against the cold surfaces.

_Great, I've started talking to myself._

"Of course you are, Q." Hearing that voice stops my ranting.

The stall door slams open, banging against the wall, and there's Santana Lopez, in all her uniformed glory.

"Been that way since 5th grade. Nice of you to catch up with the rest of the class."

I narrow my eyes threateningly and take a stance, trying to see if she's looking to start something.

"Santana…" My voice has gone low; I can hear it. I hope it's giving off some kind of attitude so Lopez takes me seriously. "How long have you been in there?

"Oh, ease up!" She notices the anger I'm sending toward her and waves me off as if I'm some toddler—in other words, Finn—throwing a tantrum.

_Ugh, Finn._

"It's not like you could take me anyway," says Santana, as she saunters over to the mirrors pulling out a tiny tube of gloss.

"Santana…" I feel frustration taking over every part of me.

"What are you doing in here?" Feeling flustered, annoyed, and so many other emotions of that genre, Santana's taunting tops my already horrible mood and I can hear it in my voice; the whining.

She turns to face me and gives a glare that only Santana can, smirking in her confident way, of course.

"Helpin' your ass get your head on straight and get the girl, what else?"

"I don't want—"

"Oh _shut up,_ I know you do. I know you, Q." She looks at me more sincerely, but just barely. Only in a way that I would know that she's being honest.

I sigh, feeling defeated knowing that she understands and isn't judging me.

It's not like she could, I mean, she and Brittany have been madly in love since they were four.

"Alright, fine Santana, you win. I want to 'get the girl'" I look at her, using air-quotes. "That we both know, but she's made it abundantly _clear-_ " looking at Santana, I try to use those rare moments of sincerity between the two of us, "that she does not want me to chase after her. So this conversation, this whole subject, should probably just end here, okay."

I end my statement with conclusiveness in my tone, hoping that Santana hears what I'm trying to say and drops the whole thing. I don't have the strength to fight about this anymore.

Walking away I notice her stature change and ease a little, so I try to help her understand more clearly, even with my back turned. "I need to stay away from Rachel; it's what she wants."

Nearly to the door I resign myself to the fact that this is how it's going to be when I hear a sound from behind me.

"Pffffttt! Bullshit."

Sighing, I turn around.

"Santana," I try to even out my voice, even though I know my annoyance is clearly showing. "Are you trying to say otherwise?"

"Hell yes! That midget's been pinin' over you since before I can remember!"

"Don't call her that!"

"Oooo, did I touch a nerve?" She steps a little closer, trying to make her point with proximity. "Good. You're going to need some type of emotion to fix the shit storm you've put yourself in."

"Santana…who says I should?" I fold my arms over my chest and prepare for a huge argument. Lopez rarely likes to admit she's wrong. Like, ever.

"What?" For the first time since the conversation started, Santana looks confused.

"You heard me. Who says I should?"

Santana splutters, trying to think of a witty way to spin what I've just said into a constructive, yet slightly insulting, form of inspiration.

"Berry and I getting together would kill my social status at this school." I continue, attempting to get through to her. "I can't go back to being a loser in Lima. It's too pathetic."

She looks at me, suddenly all too aware of what I'm thinking and it makes me uncomfortable to have that much of myself revealed to Santana Lopez.

"Quinn," she pauses, probably for dramatic effect.

I roll my eyes as Santana grabs my hand.

"Do you forget…that I already came out to the entire school with Brittany? What in the hell makes you think you'll lose your social status?" She gives me a look of incredulity, like I've suddenly grown two heads or something.

"Look at us. Britts and I are on top of the food chain here. Obviously being a lesbian doesn't do much. And if you think that the girl you're macking on being Rachel Berry makes things any different, well then you're just being a stuck-up bitch."

Something clicked in my head just then. Maybe my whole body clicked, I'm not sure.

Thinking about it, maybe I was being stupid. Not that I'd ever admit that to Santana, but…it's not like Rachel dating Finn had hurt his status at all. And since I'm the captain of the Cheerios it should basically be the same situation, right?

"Right," I say under my breath, but I think San's heard me anyway.

"All right, Santana," I say, clearing my throat and mentally preparing myself for what I'm about to do. "Let's do it."

"That's my girl." I smile at the genuine looks she gives me.

"Okay, here I go…" I'm obviously hesitant and freaking out slightly, but I have to tell Rachel. It's the only way to truly get what I want, for once.

"Wait, wait, wait…wait!" Santana grabs my arm and pulls me back away from the door even as I nearly open it. "Where do you think you're going?"

Quirking an eyebrow, I look at her with what I hope is a challenging expression.

"To get the girl," I say. Hmm, seems like I really can't say that without using air-quotes.

"Ha! You think Berry's just gonna take you back, open arms after all the shit you've pulled?"

"How do you know what I've—"

"I don't need to know anything." She gives me a glare. "Besides the basic slushee facials."

Shrugging, I look down. I had to try.

"Oh, no, no-hell no." Santana takes up her "diva" stance.

"We need to formulate a plan."

And with that, heads together in the girls bathroom, Santana and I began our plotting.


	8. Chapter 8

**_And it took so long just to feel alright…_ **

"You ready for this?"

I can feel my heart in my throat as Santana stands 20 feet away, speaking into one of the tiny Bluetooths we bought specifically for this mission.

"San, I don't think I'd use the word 'ready…'" I say, trying to calm myself down. Standing next to the stage, I take in the view. All of the decorations for prom are so familiar a year later, so dull in their iridescent flare; trying to be something beyond what they are capable.

Reminds me of myself, actually. Glimmering on the outside, trying to achieve a certain effect that will never be.

But at least I can try.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

I sigh and I can hear Santana reacting similarly—more in exasperation than anything else.

"Q," she breathes, clearly frustrated with me. Her voice is kind, though. She knows how important this is to me; how nervous I truly am.

"You're going to be fine. We've gone over this plan a million times. You got this."

I can see her smile across the room and it makes me feel better to know there's someone who would have my back if this entire thing blows up in my face.

I wish I could see Rachel. My thoughts wander as my eyes drift through the nameless faces of teenagers wearing evening gowns and tuxes. Then I notice the very large blonde head of one Sam Evans. There she is, I think, hoping that I can catch her eyes. But as my gaze moves downward to take in the sight of Rachel Berry in all her glory, my breath hitches in the back of my throat. I feel as though someone has punched me in the gut because Rachel is the most stunning woman in an evening gown I have ever seen.

"Q…?" I can hear Santana trying to speak to me, but I can't find any words.

"Q? Quinn? Quinn!" she yells right into my ear. The problem is that I have completely blanked out from the world.

A sudden and particularly loud yell perforates my ear drum and I blink.

"Beautiful…"

"Oh my god Q, really?" Santana questions, her tone obvious.

Rachel smiles at me and I smile back, feeling the color that has not so subtly taken over my features.

Santana must see me returning the smile and the blush that has crept up my face because suddenly she's at my side.

"You are a total goner, Q," she laughs, patting me on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Santana." I turn to her, agitated. "I love knowing that I've made a total ass of myself in front of a whole gym of our peers."

One fatal flaw of mine would be this situation. I seem to put on the perfect essence of sarcasm and bitchiness when I'm scared.

"Chill out, Quinn," Santana reassures me, rubbing my upper back to show support. "I got this."

I smile, thanking my entire world that at times like this that I have Santana as a best friend. It's great to have someone who understands my behavior as much as I do.

"All right, I'm gonna head over and grab the ballot crap that Shue roped us into and I'll meet ya out there, okay?"

She gives me a small smile, trying to act nonchalant, but I can tell she really is doing everything she can to help me.

"Yeah, two minutes." I turn away from her, taking in the beauty that is Rachel Berry before the small brunette is lost in the crowd, pulled away by the fat-lipped kid who looked as though he were making a beeline for Mercedes.

I roll my eyes.

_Typical._

Pressing the redial button, the nearly invisible device on my ear connects to Santana again as I turn to head toward the door.

"En route to room 111," I say, getting closer to the gym door in the high heels that look amazing, but feel like a torture device. I groan internally, realizing the pain I'll be in later.

"Operation FaberrySex in full motion," I hear over the Bluetooth. I stop short, forgetting about the lack of circulation to my toes.

"Operation wha-?" Pressing the earpiece closer, I swear I've misheard her. "When did this mission get a name?" I ask. "And what the hell does that mean, anyway?"

I start moving toward the door and open it into the hallway.

"Operation FaberrySex," Santana says over the headset. "One word, perfect description. I would've used 'Operation Get in Rachel Berry's Gold Star Panties', but it's too long."

"Oh-kay," I say, rolling my eyes. "What does it even mean?"

"Oh come on, Q," she says. "Faberry. Fabray + Berry, totally a portmanteau. Not bad, either. And sex is kind of self-explanatory, don't ya think?"

"How did you even—"

"Q, get your ass to the established coordinates and I'll explain," she says, getting agitated with my questioning her judgment. "We don't have time for you to catch up to my brilliance. I've got the boxes, I'm headed there now."

Scoffing, I start walking double-time toward the classroom.

"Quinn!"

Hearing my name from someone who isn't Santana for a change, I make a dead stop. Because I know who just called out; I would recognize that voice anywhere.

Slowly turning, I connect my eyes to deep and soulful brown ones.

God, she is gorgeous in that gown.Then again, Rachel Berry is always stunning.

Rachel walks up to me and I can't take my eyes off of her. I shake my head a little, remembering I have a plan to follow through with.

"Yes?" I say, my voice sounds calm, but my legs feel like jelly.

"Can I talk to you? It'll only take a moment."

"Make it quick," I say with a small smile, trying to sound indifferent but friendly. "You have three minutes. I have to make an appearance to my adoring fans."

"Okay," she says, smiling but looking to the floor and the ugly corsage that Sam must have bought her hanging from her wrist. Looking into my eyes, she sighs but goes on. "When we first met...you were everything that I wanted to be. Beautiful…popular…"

"How the mighty have fallen," I say, trying not to sound too self-deprecating.

"I still see you that way," she interjects, grabbing my hand. "The still beautiful, but humbled and inspiring Quinn; I couldn't see past the persona you wanted to make everyone see, but I see the real you now. I'm your friend because of it. I'm so glad that we can be friends...after everything we've been through. The past few years, I mean."

Never had a word hurt me more than in this moment. Friends.

"And if nothing else, I'm happy that we were able to be friends."

I can see a flicker of something cross her eyes and her perfect smile falters for just an instant, but the moment has passed.

"So…I just wanted to say I'm glad you're my friend, Quinn."

Rachel swallows, taking a breath, and I swear I can hear my own heart shattering. I can barely discern what she's saying.

Suddenly, I hear Santana's voice. Only this time instead of in my ear, she's a few feet behind me. I hear the scoff first.

"Stop making out with Berry and get to the Spanish room, Quinn," says Santana, sounding exasperated, but mostly likely trying to save me from myself. "It's time to count the votes, and declare me the winner!"

I turn back to Rachel, rolling my eyes slightly at Santana.

"Okay," Rachel says. "I'll see you in there. Oh, and I voted for you for queen, because I know you deserve it…"

She looks down and I want so badly to tell her that I'm not worthy of even the shoddiest of queen crowns, but she returns her gaze to my eyes and the words are lost in my throat.

"You deserve to have everything that you want in this world. Good luck."

She walks back toward the gym and leaves me in the quasi-lit hallway, tears threatening to spill down my face.

"I don't get it," Santana says. "How could Brittany have gotten only four votes?"

"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she's a girl," I offer softly, trying to make her feel better. I know how much it upsets Santana when people are mean toward her girlfriend.

"Whatever," she says, getting up to stand behind me as I sort out the last of the ballots. "Are you counting the queen votes too? Why would you do that if the whole point of getting stuck tallying this crap is to make sure that Berry wins?"

"Maybe I just want to know what the student body really thinks of us," I say, exhaling at the count I have in front of me. "I won."

"Yeah, yeah, rub it in," she says nonchalantly as she writes the numbers on the chalkboard. "So…Rachel, queen. And for king…"

"Finn," I finish for her, annoyed and saddened that this is how it's turned out. "It'll be everything she's ever wanted."

I can feel my voice wavering, knowing that Rachel will be elated when they announce her name and she dances with the boy of her dreams.

"No, Quinn," I can hear Santana right behind me. She knows the tone of my voice all too well. "She wants you. Stop trying to be some lameass martyr."

I can feel her glare even before I turn in the desk chair to look at her.

"All right, all right," I say, standing up and moving to the chalkboard. I change the count, writing *Rachel Berry* on the board as I go.

"Stars?" asks Santana, incredulously. "Wow, Fabray. You really do have it bad."

I'm too lost in my thoughts to even say anything back. Rachel will finally get to have that slow dance with Finn Hudson—technically _my_ boyfriend. I laugh slightly, staring at the name I've written.

I sigh, still thinking of how happy she'll be when they announce the winners. Doubt overwhelms me and I know, with absolute certainty that I'm going to fail.

_This is never going to work._


	9. Just A Friend

**I am just a friend,**   
_that's all I've ever been..._

"And this year's prom queen is…" Santana pauses for effect, looking to me. She's playing with my last nerve with this display, mostly because I feel like my heart is in my throat and that at any second it will hop out and squish all over the decorated gym floor for everyone to see. The anxiety and foreboding feelings are making me want to hurl.

"Rachel Berry!"

Next to me, I see Santana smile. Genuinely smile for someone she pretends to hate simply because of our statuses in this school.

Thank god she got over herself.

Rachel gasps—I can hear it in the audience, as everyone turns toward her in shock. Surprised beyond belief, I see her slowly make her way to the stage. In her eyes I can tell she's thinking this may very well be a cruel prank. And judging by Kurt's expression, he's sharing similar thoughts.

_Poor Rachel, she can't even enjoy the moment where everyone should be admiring and jealous of how gorgeous she is…_

I feel fear grip my heart and squeeze. _She's going to say no. She's going to be devastated that I've embarrassed her when she's finally getting the attention she deserves._

_She's going to reject me._

I don't want to ruin Rachel's perfect night. The perfect night with "Prince Charming", wearing a tiara and getting the chance to be in the spotlight that doesn't involve singing or a having a slushee tossed in her face.

"Santana," I whisper. I know she's going to kill me, but I can't sing the song we had talked about. It's one thing to be rejected on a level playing field, but for all these people to see me bear my soul? No deal. I can't be crushed in front of the entire population of McKinley High. I refuse to go out like that—even if it means a broken heart.

 _"Santana,"_ I whisper, more urgently this time. "I'm not going to do this. Look at her, she's so happy…"

I watch Rachel's smiling face as the crown is set on her head and she makes her way down into the crowd on Finn's arm, her face lighting up the room.

Santana turns to me, a look of outrage mixed with hurt on her face.

"Q," she says, looking suddenly sad as she sees my expression, which I'm sure is close to crumbling.

I probably look awful. _Ugh, yet another reason to get out of here as fast as possible._

"Q, you _can't_ just run away," says Santana in a slightly pleading way, grabbing my shoulders for effect. "You need to get your girl."

But I can't summon up the strength anymore. My fighting days are over.

I can see her effort draining, knowing that I've made my final decision in the sadness that I'm sure I'm giving off in waves.

If only emotions could be shown plainly on the outside, then she wouldn't have to stand here deciphering my truly pained heart and the sudden urge I have to sob until I have utterly no strength left. But I don't do that. I won't do that. Because I am Quinn Fabray. Quinn Fabray, goddamn it! Quinn Fabray doesn't cry, especially not in front of people. Especially not over Rachel Berry. This is the end. It's done.

"San…" I feel my voice break and clear my throat, pretending as if it didn't happen. And unwaveringly, I slam the final nail into the coffin. "She's happy."

I weakly gesture to the lovely brunette dancing with Finn, gracefully and beautifully taking in the adoration as if it were all she needed to live. The part that was killing me was the way she happily gazed into the tall ogre's eyes, giggly and gushing because she finally achieved her freshman dream. As if he and that spotlight were all that existed.

Rachel deserved to be that happy. _We could never do that._ Two girls dancing drew much different attention. I couldn't bear to be ashamed while dancing with Rachel Berry. It would hurt her too much.

"I can't ruin that for her," I say, determinedly staring Santana down in case she decides to fight me on this. It feels sort of like a ball of molten lava has taken residence within my chest cavity, but I push through, simply ignoring it.

"Quinn Fabray," she says, looking into my eyes. I can feel tears starting to form, but I blink them away, knowing they can be reserved for later. Tears are only for when I'm alone.

"You are my best friend. Through thick and thin; I support you."

She moves her hands up to clasp them with mine.

"And although I know you'd be making a terrible mistake, I understand that you just want Rachel to be happy. Maybe she'll have that with the troll," Santana rolls her eyes at this and I can see the tears that have built up in them.

"But I think if you truly try, you'll have her, and she'll be the happiest she has ever been." Her brown eyes beating intensely into mine actually remind me of Rachel.

Oh, if those two only knew how alike they really are…

"You both will," says Santana.

She smiles sadly, wipes a tear that has escaped onto my cheek, and grips my shoulders once again.

"Sing whatever you want. If you want. Just don't live with regrets."

And with that, Santana steps off the stage. I watch her as she makes her way over to Brittany, hugging her, and discreetly wipes tears from her own eyes.

_They are adorable. I'm glad they have each other. And I'm glad I have them._

Making my way over to the microphone, I make a decision. Looking over to Santana, I see her and Brittany both looking up at me. They really are good friends.

Hopefully they'll be able to pull me back together after this.

I look down. I won't sing what we had prepared. I won't serenade Rachel with one of my favorites, You Don't Know Me, which would have fit into the evening perfectly if Finn Hudson weren't in the picture.

I don't even feel rage anymore at Finn's presence. I suppose it's because I know he's won—she wants him more than she would ever desire me.

The song would have been great. Rachel would instantly understand what I'm trying to say. Too bad she's already chosen and I'm just standing here idly. _Oh, the lyrics of that song kill me every time._

"I'm just a friend, that's all I've ever been…"

Not even a friend until just now. I even managed to screw that up.

I laugh to myself bitterly, taking in the irony of how well the song fit Rachel and I and how I feel, how I've felt, about her. I sigh, breathing deep and trying to decide what to do as the time clicks down. I need to make a decision, I need to do something. The current song has only seconds left. I stand motionless, left hand resting on the top of the microphone stand.

_You know what? Fuck it._

_I can sing that song. Yeah, it's a nice slow song and I like it. Much better than "Who Do You Think You Are," which is what Schue wanted Santana and I to sing. It's been way over played and I'm tired of listening to it._

_Ray Charles sang this damn song and I'm gonna sing it! Not for Ms. Rachel Berry, who looks oh so chummy in douchebag's arms, dancing in the spotlight, but for me. Might as well get it out. Maybe I'll feel better. Maybe the urge to crawl into a hole will subside._

_Screw this. I won't serenade, but I sure as hell won't back down from my own feelings just because she doesn't want me the way I want her._

Grabbing the mic and fighting the urge to cry uncontrollably on this stage, I give the signal for a new song to start.

Breathing deep, taking one last look at Santana, whose facial expression shows that she realizes I'm even more upset than a few moments ago, I begin to sing.

_"You give your hand to me  
And then you say, "Hello."  
And I can hardly speak,  
My heart is beating so…"_

Rachel looks up and her deep brown eyes connect to mine, exuding emotions, but I refuse to let her shake me.

_"And anyone can tell  
You think you know me well.  
Well, you don't know me."_

Finn, oblivious to everything as usual, pulls Rachel in to dance closer to him.

_"No you don't know the one  
Who dreams of you at night;  
And longs to kiss your lips  
And longs to hold you tight…"_

_"Oh I'm just a friend.  
That's all I've ever been…"_

I can see Rachel's face change and I know she understands what I'm trying to say in this song. Her eyes well up. 

_"No my heart aches with love for you  
Afraid and shy, I let my chance go by  
The chance that you might love me too.  
You give your hand to me  
And then you say goodbye..."_

_I can't do this…_

_"I watch you walk away  
beside the lucky guy."_

Rachel frowns deeply as she stares up at me. I can feel the tears begin to creep into my eyes.

_"Oh you will never know  
The one who loves you so  
Well you don't know me..."_

My vision blurs. I can't see Rachel anymore. All of the tears that had been threatening to spill have finally fallen and I know I can't hold myself together for very much longer.

_"Cause you don't know m-me..."_

Feeling a sob trying to escape, I retreat quickly and stumble toward the stairs, wiping my eyes. My feet carry me out of the gym as fast as possible.

I guess it really was too fitting.

\---------

"Quinn!"

I yell for the blonde, hoping she hears me as I watch her stumble down the stairs and out of the back gymnasium door.

Pushing Finn away, I run after her, feeling as though my heart's been torn in two at the sight of the most gorgeous girl I've ever known falling apart and running away.

Quinn, so fearless, so amazingly resilient, simply giving up and fleeing when she starts to feel; it's somewhat unbelievable that she could shatter so easily.

But this time she was showing her feelings. For me.

_I need to find her. I need to explain that I… I love her. I've loved her for years and I thought it was unrequited. I'll make it work._

Running out the door and into the cool night air, I whip off my heels at the prospect of sprinting across the grass and into the night following Quinn.

"Quinn!" I yell again, but she's at least 200 feet in front of me and easily slipping away as I hasten to catch up. It looks like she's headed toward the playing fields.

At least I hope that's where she is going.

Behind me I hear a noise, but I don't dare look. It's nighttime and who knows what's hiding out here in the trees. I won't let my fear stop me, though!

I don't care if there is some awful thing out here lurking in the darkness, I'm going to find her and we'll die together if we have to! As long as she knows how I truly feel…that she has my heart, and a chance to keep it.

\---------

Looking off into the darkness, standing just outside the gym door with her girl by her side, Santana hoped that her friends—yes, even Berry—could figure out how much they meant to one another.

"I hope they find each other B," says Santana, as she wraps an arm around her girlfriend.

"But Santana, it's so dark," says Brittany. "I don't see how. Especially with no moon! It's going to be nearly impossible without a moon or stars or a unicorn to light the ground."

Santana laughs, looking adoringly at the love of her life.

"Hey San, you said I'm a unicorn," says Brittany, leaning her head to rest on Santana's shoulder. "Maybe I should go show them the way!"

Completely giddy, Brittany starts to take off after Rachel only to be pulled back into strong tan arms.

"I don't think so, Britt," says Santana, hugging the blonde. "I think they've had enough help. They need to do this themselves."

Standing there wrapped in Santana's arms, Brittany was too comfortable to disagree.


	10. The Melody Ends

Running further and further across the wet grass, I start to lose hope.

_Obviously if Quinn doesn't want to be found, I probably won't be able._

Sighing, I try to remain positive; the song that Quinn sang so beautifully playing loudly and repeatedly in my head. I think of the heartbroken face I saw when looking up at the stage--right before Quinn bolted into the dark night--and I feel a new streak of determination.

Well, if not tonight, then tomorrow or the next day, or the day after that.

_I'm not giving up on you, Quinn Fabray._

Seeing the football field lit up, I make an abrupt stop and stare at the powerful lights.

With a renewed sense of exhilaration, I sprint toward them, dropping my heels in the process.

_Stay there, Quinn. I'm coming._

\-------

Running and crying are not a good mix.

Plopping down quite ungracefully onto the grass, I lean back against the post and try to catch my breath. The damn shoes have cut into the skin on my feet and I know I'll have to go barefoot from here.

It's not too long of a walk to my car; I just want to wait for a while to make sure the coast is clear.

Suddenly remembering my headset, I call Santana.

Three rings and I start to doubt my call will even be answered, but then-

"Hello Quinn," San answers nonchalantly. "How's your evening going?"

Feeling my face instantly become annoyed, I bite back sarcasm.

Not like I have the strength for it anyway.

I sigh and avoid her stupid question.

"Santana, I'm going to try to make a break for my car soon," I say, trying to keep my voice even since I undoubtedly sound like I've been crying.

"Oh, and why is that?" Santana asks, sounding cheerful. And annoying.

"Because I don't want to face everyone in that gym, _especially_ Rachel. I've embarrassed myself enough for one night."

"Hold on just a second," speaking more somberly this time, Santana starts talking to someone else, probably Brittany, and the phone goes mute.

_Ugh._

I sit there, staring into the abyss and trying to figure out just how awful Monday is going to be.

 _I just need to get through a few weeks and then I'm out of here._ Couldn't be soon enough.

The line picks up again and I hear Santana's voice.

"Q. I'm going to give this to Brit and I'll be down to get you. My girl can be our eyes and I'll go with you to your car in case there are people outside."

"No, San, I just wanna be left alon-"

"Quinn. Tell me where you are or so help me..."

I can hear a string of Spanish being muttered and from what I can tell it's a lot of expletive material. Those are just the kind of things you learn being friends with Santana.

"All right, fine," I say, not feeling like I have the energy to argue anymore. "I'm sitting by one of the goal posts."

"Okay. Stay there, Q. I'll be down in a few minutes.

I can hear the seriousness in Santana's tone.

"Just stay there."

"Just get here as soon as you can then," I say, pressing the button and ending the call.

Santana looks to Brittany, smirking.

"Looks like I bought Berry some more time."

Brittany smiles back, enveloping Santana in a hug as they watch the dance floor and a clearly tipsy Finn hitting on one of the Cheerio rookies.

They burst out laughing as the sophomore tosses punch in Finn's face, now holding a bewildered expression, and walks away.

"Should we try calling Rachel?" Brittany asks as the giggles subside.

"Nope," Santana smirks, brandishing a sparkly object from a pocket within the masses of prom dress. "Because I have Rachel's phone."

"I hope Rach can find Quinn."

"Me too, Brit. Me too."

\-------

I slow down as I approach the bleachers, catching my breath enough to be sure that I can at least speak. And I know I'll have to be doing a lot of that if I'm to reason with Quinn.

Looking around, I feel my face fall. There was no one there.

I was sure Quinn would be sitting right here, staring out at the field from a bench.

_Maybe you don't know Quinn as well as you think you do._

Breathing heavily, I feel the tears begin to gather, but I bite them back, forcing myself to calm down and regain composure. I sit on one of the cold metal benches.

Feeling my oxygen levels begin to regulate and my heartbeat begin to slow, I focus on my breathing.

And as I do, I begin to hear voices. Momentarily panicking, I try to figure out what to do in case it's some jocks or burnouts that will end up harassing me.

Realizing it's a softer tone, and just one voice, not several, I listen more carefully to make out the conversation.

_Quinn!_

Oh my god, down by the goal post! I see an arm and a bit of material that's an exact match for the dress Quinn had on this evening.

Rushing down the stairs, I hear the talking stop.

Deterred by the silence and thinking I'm going to have to begin running once again, I look up in a quick, panicked search.

But as I look up in my haste to reach the blonde of my dreams, I'm reassured by the sight of the fabric remaining on the ground.

Trying not to run, but hurrying just the same, I walk as quickly as possible to where Quinn is sitting. The last thing I need is to become all flustered again and not be able to get my point across.

Marching right up to the post and doing a complete 90 degree turn, I place my hands on my hips.

"Quinn Fabray!"

The blonde's head pops up and I make eye contact.

"Just what do you thin-"

I stop, noticing the tear-stained face and realize the tough love route to get Quinn to admit romantic feelings is obviously not the right road to travel at this point.

I bend down slightly, reaching to caress the cheerleader's face, when the explosion happened.

"What do you think you're doing here?!" Quinn screamed, standing in one swift motion and leaving me to feel off balance, taking a few steps backward.

"Get away from me! You're happy with everything tonight, what possible reason could you have to follow me down here, to torture me?!"

Quinn tried to stomp away, faltering after a few steps. Stopping, I watch as very stylish heels are violently pulled off and thrown to the field as if they were a football and Quinn had scored just before the final seconds of a tied game.

Reaching out, I grab Quinn's forearm in an effort to pull us closer together. As I feel our bodies collide and look into a pair of blood-shot eyes, I lose all of my possible argument.

Simply running my hand down a soft cheek, I lean forward and place my lips upon Quinn's, ensuring the kiss is loving and gentle.

Pulling away slowly, Quinn looks at me bewildered.

"Rachel, what are you doing?"

"I'm fighting for the person of my dreams," I say, smiling at the funny expression on the blonde's face.

"But, but F-Finn and being queen…" I watch as gorgeous hazel eyes search my face, flicking up to the crown still attached to my head, and landing back upon my own.

Gazing at me in some sort of wonder, Quinn looks down and begins to slide away from my embrace.

Holding tight, I maintain my grip and even hold on with more intensely, refusing to let this moment end.

"Listen, Quinn," I say, hoping my message is loud and clear and received well this time. "I do not want Finn. That's not my idea of happiness."

Still looking at me, I smile slightly at the disbelief written on Quinn's face.

"My perfect, ecstatic, wonderful idea of happy is _you,_ " I say, bringing my forehead to rest against Quinn's. I can feel breath puffing onto my face and a racing heartbeat I am not 100 percent is my own.

I can feel Quinn relax, trusting my grip instead of fighting it. I go in for the kill.

Pulling back just slightly, I raise my eyes and deliver the words I have wanted to speak to Quinn Fabray since I was 14 years old.

"I want you, Quinn. I love you. No one makes me as happy as you and I don't think anyone could even come close. Please, tell me you care about me too. I need you in my life. I don't know if I could survive—"

Lips suddenly collided with mine, not giving me a chance to finish the speech I had been rehearsing in my head for years. Feeling Quinn hungrily grasping at me for more, I decide I hardly mind. When breathing becomes imperative we pull apart and I look at the disheveled hair and pouted, swollen lips in front of me. Running a finger over them, I feel a small shudder against me.

Smiling, I look at Quinn and fully wrap my arms around the blonde.

"Rachel, I'm so sorry. I never meant anything that I did," Quinn was starting to ramble. "I never should have hurt you and I really liked kissing you and I'm so sorry about the bathroom I should have never tried to force anything to happen—"

"Quinn!" Looking startled, the cheerleader stops talking and meets my eyes.

"Listen to me," I say. "First of all, you didn't force anything! Stop thinking you were the big bad perpetrator in that situation because you were dealing with your own feelings too. You did hurt me, but…but I forgive you because I know that you cared enough to listen to my pleas asking you to leave me alone. Clearly that was hard for you. And I enjoyed kissing you. And, and…other things. It wasn't one-sided."

Staring at me, Quinn began to smile as I faltered over mentioning the extensive physical intimacy we shared.

"Thank you," Quinn sighed, saying nothing else and leaning in to place a gentle kiss on my lips.

"Now," I say, laughing with giddiness and taking Quinn's hand as we begin walking. "Do you want to go back to the gymnasium? I'm sure Santana and Brittany are tearing it up!"

"Oh!" Quinn stops and drops my hand.

"Hey, it's fine," I say in soothing voice, hoping my mention of the dance hadn't been too upsetting. "We don't have to go back if you don't wan—"

"Brittany?" Quinn is holding her hand up to her ear and staring off into the night. "Hey, does Santana have a phone on her?"

I am instantly confused by Quinn's behavior.

"Quinn, Brittany's not…"

I trail off as I catch a glimpse of the device in Quinn's ear and silence myself to prevent any further embarrassment.

"What? What do you mean she has Rachel's phone?!" There was a beat of silence and then...

"You'll ask her?!"

I perk up at the mention of my phone and a quick search of the pockets beneath my chiffon confirms that my phone is in fact missing.

Sighing, I can see Quinn bracing against mounting frustration.

"Isn't she on her way down here…?"

Sighing I feel Rachel buzzing around me at the strange conversation I was currently having with Brit.

Suddenly I hear a weird click and Santana's voice is on the other end of the phone, asking Brittany a question and laughing.

"Santana."

I know that even though I simply spoke one word it was heard on the other end.

"Thought you were on your way down here," I say, making a motion for Rachel to remain quiet.

"Q…I…got held up."

"Did you now?" I ask, knowing it definitely sounds more like a statement than a question.

"Yeah…the uh, uh decorating committee had a glitter mishap and the entire dance floor was just…"

"Save it, Santana. I am going home. Both of you have a fun night and I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"But wait, wait, _wait!_ "

"No, Santana. I want to go home. Goodnight."

"Quinn wait you don't understan—"

With a quick press to the metal gadget, I hang up on Santana. Undoubtedly the couple knew of Rachel's intentions all along, but since they had decided not to share everything they knew, I don't see the harm in making sure they're kept in the dark for a day or so.

"So, princess," I say, laughing and flicking the crown on Rachel's head. "Wanna go hang out at my place? It's much more interesting than here, trust me.

"Better entertainment," I say in a hushed voice, leaning down closer to Rachel.

"Quinn." Batting my arm playfully Rachel scoffs at me. "It is not _princess,_ it's queen. Honestly, you think you would know these things!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to offend royalty."

I bend down in a curtsy, extending my arm toward the parking lot a short distance away.

"Your carriage, m'lady."

Rachel giggles and I smile, feeling like a heavy burden has finally been lifted from my shoulders. As we walk to the car, my phone starts buzzing and when I inform Rachel she begins giggling again. Fits of laughter take over both of us. Strolling with our arms intertwined, we make our way to the vehicle, nearly falling over in our inexplicable happiness.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Same, Quinn. Same.


End file.
